


Pinky ring

by Jackpotgirl1



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Angst, Family Problems, Fluff and Angst, Let's say i have fluff, M/M, Yang mama, chen sister, i dont give them names lol, unsent gifts, yang brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23751412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackpotgirl1/pseuds/Jackpotgirl1
Summary: Needing space, Eddy's sister opened up the built-in closet of his brother's previous room. Boxes the things up, sent one item to SG.One item, unlocked dormant feelings.---Thanks chlochloebear for the cover~
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang, Twosetviolin - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Pinky ring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chlochloebear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chlochloebear/gifts).



> Original work from my wattpad.

"Hey, Ed," His sister's cheery voice through the other line greeted.

Rolled out of bed, Eddy yawned, "Yeah, hey."

"Did I wake you up?"

Eddy had no choice but to get up, his sister called in so early. And she didn't stop until he answered. So here he was, only in his boxers, as he rummaged the fridge for last night's leftovers. His phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulders. With a box of stir-fried, he found on hand, he shut the fridge's door. Eddy chuckled, "Too late to ask that now."

"Sorry..." She laughed, and an audible shifting of boxes was heard from the other line. "Oh, yeah! In your _room_ ," Eddy rolled his eyes as he can imagine his sister finger quoting on the word, "I want to use that closet. Can I move the--"

"No!" A shout. Eddy's hand slammed the plate for the stir-fry back on the rack, grains of rice jumped off the take-out box on his other hand, "Don't touch anything in there!"

"Well, sorry dude! Just asking--" His sister from the other line had her voice raised.

Eddy licked his lip, transferred the phone to his other ear, "No, no, I--" Eddy took a deep breath, tried to calm himself down, he did raise his voice to his sister. He walked to the kitchen sink, left his box of leftover stir-fry. A shaky hand through his hair, "just, just don't open anything..."

The person on the other line hummed. Another box shifted, sounded like a smaller one this time. Amused, "unsent gifts?"

Eddy pinched the bridge of his nose. He can't stop her really. Not now that he's miles and miles away. He sighed.

She turned the nicely packed gift. Looked for a card or anything written on the wrapper. None, "For who?"

His free hand ran through his hair, and another lick on the lips, "It doesn't matter," he paused. The words, a name, wanted to roll out of his tongue. His eyes stung, and bitter memories started to float.

Eddy took a deep breath, forced to them in with his uncoordinated just-woken-up-self. He mumbled as if convincing himself, "it doesn't matter anymore."

-

When Eddy moved house to Singapore with Brett, for work, his room back in Australia was taken over by his sister. Everything Eddy owned there was either brought with him or sealed in a box and stored in the attic. Except for the contents of the built-in closet.

No one ever dared to touch it. Even when Eddy was still using the room before. His sister didn't know what was inside until she opened it that day, saying she needed it.

Inside was years and years worth of Eddy's...

She did get permission to move the items, but with the promise of keeping the gifts intact. Eddy's sister did store the unnamed presents inside carton boxes.

Old and new. Light and heavy. Large and small. All items varied. She can't guess what's inside even she tried to shake some. Even how much curiosity got into her, she didn't open a single one. It was her brother's after all.

Hidden deep behind the closet was a biscuit tin box. Unwrapped. Old and rusty. One's different from all the others.

She said a silent prayer and crossed her fingers. 'Please don't kill me,' before opening the tin box.

Inside were smaller gift items. All nicely wrapped of course. And all seemed to be taken good care of, like all others.

One item stuck out from the rest. Without opening, she knew what it was. And that did not land inside the "for the attic" box.

\---

"You've got a package," Brett shouted over his shoulder as he received the parcel from the mailman. He shut the door closed after signing, and put the thing on the coffee table.

"From who?" Eddy asked, sipping his coffee. Eyes stayed glued to his laptop, busy giving instructions to their editor.

Brett plopped on the sofa with a grunt. He sounded so tired without actually doing anything heavy, "your sister."

Eddy raised an eyebrow. He eyed Brett, then the package. Then stretched out a hand, signed with his fingers, "pass me that."

\---

The lines of early morning light seeped in through the half-mast blinds. Half-naked, Eddy sat on the bed. His hand, he opened and closed the small blue velvet box repeatedly. Its content shone every time the daylight hits.

Rays of prism fractured lights bounced off to the box, to Eddy's hand, to his face, and his bedroom walls. Colorful. Beautiful. He always wondered how more dazzling it can be when it's on his beloved's finger.

Eddy bit his lip.

'If only...'

The box's repeated clicking sound continued until his phone's alarm went off.

\---

The two were on their way to their favorite coffee shop. Mornings like this, like the rebound of a joke, hit them harder than it initially intended to be, needed stronger shots than the instant 3-in-1 coffee they had at home.

The stronger shots may be an energy drink or vodka, but it's too early for those. Much healthier if they'd stick with coffee. Cheaper too.

So they settled on espresso.

-

Brett squashed his face with a hand, ruffled his hair, and groaned aloud. A headache crept out because of the "Tchaik drop." One that's supposed to be a joke, courtesy of Eddy. Elbows on the table, Brett mushed his face into his palms, "Fuck."

"Sorry, bro," Eddy let out a chuckle as he put down his cup back on the saucer. It was his idea, after all, he can only share his burden at least. By playing the orchestra part. "I'll ease on the jokes, next time," patted his friend's shoulder in front of him.

Brett looked up to Eddy through his fingers, hands never left his face. He gave his friend a toothy grin, "Start by practicing the viola part, man!"

Eddy shot him back a smile. A smile, that was too short-lived for Brett's liking. Then the hand left his shoulder, and that same hand, brought the steaming cup of coffee back to Eddy's lips.

Eddy starred out of the window, his mind ran off with things the other can't, won't fathom.

He, Eddy, silently pleaded. That the strong aroma of the coffee, the bitterness of its taste, or the scalding temperature make him forget. Forget about his past. Forget about his stupid feels.

But he knew it won't.

The taller then took a sip of his coffee, then sighed.

Quiet. Brett watched him, Eddy's furrowed brows, the way the rim of his cup stayed far too long on his lips, the sounds of his heavy sighs, and the slow motions of his hand.

He looked down, glasses lightly fogged because of the steam, and both his hands cupped his mug. On the dark of the coffee, his own reflection frowned at him.

'Eddy...'

\---

"I doubt it'll fit."

Eddy said as he took the item out of its box. The ring. Now eye level, he rotated it with his fingers. The silver band and its stone glimmered as he did.

He's amazed at how he came up buying the thing. Everything in the closet, back in Brisbane, even.

Eddy had always had long discussions with himself on what item to give, it's use, and it's wrapper. Depending on the situation, occasion, or just the thought. He always considered his beloved's likes and dislikes, never bought any because of the fads. Whether it may be of significance, or for practicality, he weighed them considerably.

Even though he chose the most fitting, perfect item... they were never sent.

And again, he stared at the ring. He watched as the spill of its colorful broken lights' splendor filled his walls. Until his phone's alarm went off.

\---

"Those prodigies are a step closer to Lingling than us," Brett said with a laugh. Stretched his arms up high. The chair he sat on squeaked as he did.

The two just finished to shoot another prodigy reaction video. They'd shoot two more. Next in line was the meme review of the Lingling wannabes.

Eddy was busy scrolling through the Reddit page when Brett, "You ok, man?"

Taken aback, "What?" Eddy turned to his friend, lifted his hand from the laptop's trackpad.

"You're too quiet these days." Brett, worried, "Something wrong?"

"I'm good," Eddy's eyes went back to the computer screen, "let's just finish this, yeah?" He lifted the corners of his lips. An action vague enough to call a smile. And continued to scroll the page.

\---

Brett had been repeating the same passage for the past half hour, and still not satisfied. Clicked his tongue, and shook his head every time his hand, or ears didn't meet up with what's on his mind.

And speaking of mind, he'd been watching Eddy through the corner of his eye.

Busy on his laptop, Eddy was brainstorming, for his part on the consequence of his joke. Brows clashed together. A hand scratched his neck, his face unconsciously. All while arranging the notes for his part. And quietly talked with himself of what to do with what.

"Ugh!" Eddy grunted. Ruffled his hair with a hand, leaned back to zoom out of his work. He bit the tip of his thumb and glanced at Brett through his unswept bangs. Busy. Eddy rubbed his face with both of his hands, sighed, and he fixed his seating. Shaking his head, the taller went back to work.

He missed a note, because of an invisible weight on his back. Brett shook his head, dismissed the thought. So, he then fixed his glasses and re-ran the passage.

After two hours, or so.

Brett lifted his instrument from its place between his chin and shoulder. Holding the bow, and violin at each hand, he bounced lightly. He felt a little stiff, needed to loosen up a bit. Brett exhaled loud, rotated his shoulders, and stretched his neck side to side. The little bones popped sounds as he did. And in the corner of his eye, he had a glimpse.

Eddy, cross-legged, with headphones on, fully concentrated on his part's rendition. He only typed with his dominant hand, though. The other, on his chin, mouth rather. His index finger in, between the moist glistening lips. Biting it.

Brett swallowed.

Then clicked his tongue. 'Stop touching your face, damn it!' Brett fixed his glasses, to do something with his hand. And forced himself to, face the wall. To not look at Eddy.

A deep breath. A note. Brett started over with the piece.

\---

Brett woke up to the quiet of the apartment. Unsuspicious, he brought himself to the bathroom, to freshen up. Without the usual sounds of his friend practicing early in the day. Brett carried on to fix his bed.

'Maybe Eddy slept in?' Brett thought, shrugged. So, barefoot, he walked past his friend's bedroom door to head to the kitchen. And there, made himself coffee.

He checked the fridge if needed to get groceries. Seen that there's no need, he grabbed some bread from the counter and his coffee. And went to the living room.

There, at the sight of a small blue box, and a letter under it, actions halted. Slowly he put down his food to the coffee table and sat down at the sofa. All while he absentmindedly stared at the foreign objects in front of him.

With shaky hands, Brett lifted the paper. Unfolded it.

No.

Even before he saw a single word, he slammed the paper on the table. He didn't bother to wipe the spilled coffee. Brett's instinct was to run to Eddy's room.

Heavy, quick footsteps echoed throughout the apartment. He didn't know why, but his brain chanted, _'please, please, be here.'_ Upon reaching, Brett slammed the door open.

Brett looked around the dimly lit room.

The windows and blinds, closed. The bed, untouched. The violin, same with its owner, gone.

-

_I'm sorry I can't give this to you in person. I didn't have a chance. Because every time I tried, something always came up, you're busy, or I bailed out._

_The first time I tried to give you this was in high school. Your graduation. To maybe have something to remind you of me._

_Back then, I thought, if my parents didn't let me pursue the violin, we'd start to grow apart... Me in med school, you in the music conservatory. And I don't want that._

_Remember when I congratulated you? I bought you flowers and shit. And I had this thing in my pocket. As I made my way through the crowd of your fellow graduates, I thought: you worked hard to convince your parents, fought hard to take a step forward towards your dream_.

_I don't have the right to hold you back._

_So in the end, you only got the flowers and a single word of "congratulations._ _"_

_I was happy, my parents agreed to let me pursue music. (Challenged them to!) And, it's a chance! So I followed you to the same conservatory_.

_I thought I can give it to you at that time. But didn't. You're with Katie._

_I'm okay. I understand._

_I cheered you on, wished for your happiness._

_When you graduated, I didn't give it to you again. Because, you said, you wanted to be a soloist. I never wanted to tie you down._

_I nodded._

_You wanted wings. So I'm letting you fly._

_I didn't give it to you when we became twoset. You said you wanted to tour the world. So I busked the streets with you. I made videos with you. Performed in front of many people with you._

_It's fun. We reached our goal. We shared our talents, our love for the violin, and spread classical music to the mainstream._

_And this thing was left forgotten in my closet._

_I told myself to be content being your friend._

_This_ _should have been left there_.

_But, ever since I got this from my sister, I had been thinking..._

_Am I supposed to be in your future?_

-

Nighttime.

Slowly, the entrance to the apartment opened. Noticed the lights were dimmed, Eddy assumed Brett was already asleep.

He let out a sigh. It was what he aimed for, not to see Brett at the moment. But the fact that he's not there, hurt him.

In quiet steps, Eddy walked in. And gently closed the door behind. He put his violin on the couch and headed to the kitchen.

And to Eddy's surprise, Brett's there, in gray sweater and shorts. Was pouring himself a glass of water by the fridge.

Their eyes met.

"Bre--"

"You ate?" Brett cut Eddy off. Not even drinking it, he put the glass and pitcher on the counter, "I'll reheat--"

"I'm sorry..." Eddy swallowed. "You should, just..." he bit his lip, looked at his feet, to avoid Brett's gaze, "...throw it away."

The shorter was silent for a moment. Shoulders dropped. He tightened his fist, then released it. After an exhale, he walked. Stood in front of Eddy.

The silence. Eddy didn't like any bit of it, but he can't say anything. He bit his lip so hard to stop it from trembling. Still, he looked down, to not let his _friend_ see the tears forming in his eyes.

Brett picked an item from his shorts' pocket. Reached an arm out, to let Eddy see.

Shaky, Brett asked, "What's this?"

A sheet of folded paper.

"What is this for?"

Eddy looked up to Brett the moment he laid eyes on the paper. "I--!" And for the second time that night, his eyes widened.

Brett's face was flushed red, his shoulders shook. Eyes behind the dark rims, glassy, brimming with... tears?

The shorter crumpled the piece of paper on his hand, and threw it hard on the floor, "How can you be so sure," Brett swallowed, "that I want to be alone?"

"Brett..."

Through gritted teeth, "how can you be so sure, that I'm not waiting for you?"

Eddy wiped his tears, hugged himself. But cried more. Quiet, he sobbed, "I'm- I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

"Ho- how will you know what I'm thinking?" Brett pointed hard to his chest. Almost a shout, "without asking me, how will you know what I'm feeling?!"

With quick action of Brett's hands, Eddy was forced to lean down. Brett pulled, grabbed him by the collar. Through his glasses, he looked at Eddy in the eyes.

Swollen, red, full of tears. Same as his. The very same eyes Brett knew who always watched him. They stared back at him. Then a shout, as if to make Eddy understand,

"I love you, Eddy! God damn it!"

And Brett clashed their mouths.

\---

Morning.

Lines of light formed inside the room, through the blinds. Same for the spill of various colors of the ring. Like a kaleidoscope, moving.

Eddy. On his bed, wrapped in his blanket and limbs. Had a comfortable weight on his chest.

He tried to speak, but winced. The cut on his lip stretched, reopened. Eddy ran a thumb to the wound, wiped the small droplet of blood. In his hushed morning voice, "you're too rough," and playfully punched Brett's arm.

The shorter looked up, kissed the torn lip. Smiled, "'coz you're stupid." And rested his head back on Eddy's chest. He let a hearty laugh.

The vibrations of Brett's chuckles, on his ribs, made him melt. Soft eyed, Eddy glanced at the ring on Brett's finger. He smiled on the shorter's hair, inhaled his scent, and kissed the fluffy locks.

Brett can't take his eyes off of the ring. As if mesmerized. He repeatedly moved his hand, and the colors around the room shifted too. "I think I know, why you got this."

"Yeah," still in his low morning voice, "but it doesn't fit you now." Eddy played with his lover's soft fluff of hair, "I got that back when we're in high school."

Brett chuckled, as he was wearing the ring on his pinky. As long as it's his, on his hand, the meaning won't change right?

He then pulled Eddy into a tight hug, looked up at his boyfriend's face, then pouted, "Are you calling me _fat_?!"

As an apology, or what they were supposed to be doing, Eddy promised to practice Tchaik the whole day.

The couple laughed and laughed. Teased each other more. Showered each other with kisses more.

Until Eddy's alarm went off.

\---

Brett bit his thumb, phone plastered to his ear, as the ringing on the other line carried on. The AC blast high, but he perspired lots. Antsy, Brett absentmindedly wiped his sweaty hand to his new 2mil subs shirt.

Brett's excited, and nervous at the same time. Excited, because of the good news. Him and Eddy. Nervous, because of what the other person will think, of him and Eddy.

While he waited for the other line to pick up, he thought it's the wrong time to call. Too early in the morning. And minutes before the Tchaikovsky live.

"Ten minutes," Eddy said behind him, as he attached the 2M balloons on the curtains.

"Yeah," Brett's weak answer. On his ear, the phone rang a few times more. His heart sank, the operator took over.

He put his phone down on the table, beside his violin case. Let out a loud exhale. He shouldn't be thinking about this now.

Brett took off his pinky ring. It exchanged places with his violin on the case. To Eddy, "Yeah."

Eddy looked up to Brett. After he fixed the balloons in place, he grabbed his sheet for a last-minute practice. He was sitting on the floor, reading, humming his part's transcription. He stared at him. Scanned Brett's face, tried to decern what the other was thinking.

He said nothing, as he looked down. Locked eyes with Eddy. Brett can't disturb him with what's on his mind now, they'll have a live-in a few. Can't put him out of the mood.

But it's Eddy Chen we're talking about. He'll know even Brett doesn't want him to know. So, after a few beats, Eddy,

"We'll start packing up after the live."

\---

They went back to Australia. The land of heatwaves, kangaroos, and koalas. To talk to their parents.

It turned out good with Chen's. Eddy's sister and mom had a running bet on to for who the gifts are for. His mother won.

Brett relaxed. Eddy's family was cool with them, it lifted a ton of weight on his shoulders. The family's treatment of him didn't change, as if he'd been a part of them since they were teens.

They'd sleep in Eddy's room like their previous sleepovers, since the old days. Except for the cuddling. Brett let Eddy to be pampered, spoiled, and dutifully cared for that night. A little reward too since the Tchaik was a success.

With his lover between his arms, Brett slept well.

The next day, they have another household to deal with.

\---

After the two finished their breakfast, they drove to the Yangs. With Eddy on the driver's seat, Brett was left alone with his thoughts as he stared out the window. The chirping birds, the kids playing happily at the park they passed by, and the bright sunny day did nothing to blur out the dark and heavy feeling in his chest.

The scenery became too familiar to Brett. The houses, the trees, the lamp posts of their neighborhood. A sure indication of--

"We're here," Eddy said, as he placed a hand on Brett's lap.

He turned to him, nodded.

Eddy reached out, to take Brett's hands. Fingers made way for the protruding stone on his ring. Squeezed them, and gave him an assuring smile.

Brett smiled back.

-

It was Brett's brother who opened the door for them. Said Yang-mama was in the kitchen. They both went of course, but before reaching, Eddy was stopped. Both turned around to Brett's brother.

"Let them sort it out."

Eddy shot Brett a smile, "I'll wait here."

He nodded, "thanks," and headed on to the kitchen.

There, on the dining table. Typing on her laptop, as she sipped her coffee. And as if she noticed his presence, she closed the laptop and turned to him.

Brett gulped stood frozen by the entryway the moment his mother's eyes were on him. He can't look at her. And unconsciously played with his ring.

Yang-mama removed her glasses, and put them on the table. "I heard about you," paused, "and Eddy."

Brett let out a shaky breath. About to say a "yeah," interrupted.

She crossed her arms, "I thought he has a girlfriend?"

Hesitant to speak, Brett, "They broke u--"

"Are you the reason?"

"No!" Brett licked his lips, furrowed his brows, "Ma!"

She slammed a hand on the table, "Are you a rebound?"

Brett blinked, utterly shocked by his mother's words. What? Why would she think of Eddy this way? Brett opened his mouth to protest, but before he could speak a hand was on his shoulder. He turned. It was Eddy.

Stern, "No, ma'am. Brett's not--"

Yang-mama stood, firmly, " **This**. Is. A family discussion, Mr. Chen."

Brett felt the hand on his shoulder shook, he put a hand on it, "Eddy, please..." tears started to form, he turned to his mother, "Ma..."

His jaw tightened. Eddy's fist too. He drew in breaths, and about to speak when,

"Guys, I think you should..." He didn't continue. It was Brett's brother. He glanced at Brett, then Eddy, and put a hand on the taller's shoulder, "I'll handle it from here."

Brett's tears fell. He had no choice but to nod. He wiped his eyes, to properly see. Brett gave his mom one last look.

She stared back at him, at them, as she sat slowly, back down on her chair.

Shaky, Brett held Eddy's hand with a ring clad his, interlaced their fingers. He looked up to him. In between sobs, Brett weakly whispered, "let's go..."

-

A bright sunny day outside. At the park. Where they passed by earlier.

Quiet.

They sat on a swing each. Sounds of metal against metal. Brett looking down on his feet, swinging himself, not as hard to make his feet off the grass.

Eddy faced forward. He watched the children play at the monkey bars, and slides. Their nannies or parents, sat at the nearby benches, keeping eyes on their kids.

The taller licked his lips. Clasped his hands and spoke, "It's like our anti-fans,"

Brett stopped swinging, turned to Eddy.

"No matter how good we are at what we do," bit his lip, "no matter how good our intentions are," swallowed, "they always have things to say."

"Eddy..."

Eddy turned to Brett, "I know you want her to be there," he swallowed, shaky, "at our wedding..."

Sniff. Tears began to form on Brett's eyes. Wiped them with a hand. His glasses went askew, but did nothing to fix them.

"We can't please everybody, Brett."

Brett cried. Hard. He knew his mother was hard to please, even with his violin competition awards and trophies. Brett wailed, with hiccups and sobs. Eddy's right, he wanted her to be there. On their special day. But her reaction earlier... It seemed impossible.

Without a word, Eddy stood up. Hugged Brett from behind. Buried his face to his lover's shoulders. Quiet sniffles. Brett's shirt turned damp, darker by the shoulder.

Brett held on to Eddy's arms. He sobbed.

Yes, he did cry, but after they dried, Brett finally said, "if loving you is a crime, you'll see me every day on the news. Breaking out of prison, over and over."

Hearty laughs bursted out from the two. Their cheeks reddened. Their hugs tightened. Their hearts lightened.

Just like before, Brett and Eddy would watch out for each other. Support each other. No matter what the future holds, they'd always face them together.

Under the bright blue sky, together they hoped, that one day, they'll accept. One day they'll understand.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I want to get the feel of 'won the battle but lost the war' haha! Dang... I did get overboard with this... I think?
> 
> Thanks chlochloebear for the cover~!


End file.
